Council
by The Avatar Vyakara
Summary: Because a plan that takes the whole of the known world to complete will have some hurdles to overcome, be they political, geographical, or otherwise. A story of how the Emperor gathered the great chiefs of the world, and how the trainers of the Samurai-to-be-Jack joined the cause.


"We must learn from this day. We must be prepared should this evil ever return. _We must have a plan._ "

–The Emperor, _The Birth of Evil_ Part 2

* * *

OCTOBER, 25 YEARS BEFORE AKU

The Sailor understood the significance of their mission perfectly.

Once the demon had gone, the Emperor had taken the problem of rebuilding as seriously as he took anything. The new palace had had to wait while the villages were rebuilt, and he had even joined in the work. It was not an uncommon sight, now, to see him pottering through the streets, ordering things to be done and taking part himself. His royal ancestors would have been appalled; had there been any nobility left in the country after Aku's reign, they would have seen it as a sign of weakness. But his people had won out in the end. Their emperor said they were his family, and family helped family. The Sailor understood that, and was grateful.

But the Emperor had not been content with that–would not be content with that. He had a new child, now, alongside his wife. He needed his own small family to be protected as well. The Sailor understood that, and was sympathetic.

So he had taken it upon himself to gather all the emperors of the world, from China itself to the Dark Lands to the Cold Wastes, and host them in the city yet under construction. The Sailor understood that–actually, no, he didn't. There was something fundamentally wrong in entertaining so many strange peoples, bringing them into Japan itself rather than visiting them. Japan was home, and it needed to be so, free of outside influence.

It went deeper than that, though. Japan had been ravaged by an evil so powerful that it defined its concept. It was only Evil, nothing more and certainly nothing less. How would these foreign emperors see his homeland? Would they sneer through their absurdly-shaped noses at the carnage Evil had wrought, presuming that it was through Japanese inferiority–or a retribution from wronged gods? Or would they deem it worth repair, to add piece by piece to Japan their own world, so that Japan lost what little culture Evil had not destroyed? The Sailor did not know.

The Sailor also knew better to broach the subject with the captain. The rules of the hierarchy might have been breached enough by necessity under Evil that the captain probably wouldn't have had him reproached for disrespect of the emperor's command, but it was a difficult subject. All of the crew had lost someone to Evil. The captain had lost his son. The Sailor had lost his uncle. If the Emperor said that something needed to be done, to stop Evil from coming back, then they were going to listen to him.

The Sailor gazed up into the night sky, and marked the position of the Hairy Head with a sad smile on his face. Evil needed to be defeated; this was true. But if it were up to the Sailor…

The Sailor understood the significance of their mission, and in spite of his misgivings he agreed with it, because try as he might in spite of all his doubts he could not find a better option.

* * *

The Sheikh had barely risen from prayer when the ship came in over the horizon.

The Japanese had visited his country before, but only for minor trading missions. There was little that they needed, really; their country was less than suited for the horses that he and his people loved, and his own Citadel required little in the way of goods from them. Some of their precious metals, maybe, but realistically there wasn't anything they wanted for the silver, so that was tricky on occasion.

For a ship to pull into dock now, during the first days of the autumn winds, meant that they once again were interested in trade. Time to meet them!

The Sheikh came down to the docks, and was astonished to see that the man leaving the ship bore the mark of the emperor himself upon his robes. An imperial messenger, perhaps? This would make sense. The Sheikh had always preferred dealing with the Japanese from a distance, but if the emperor had sent a delegation, perhaps they were interested in trade after all.

One man seemed more ornately-dressed than the others. Presumably this was the captain. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the workers rebuilding a part of the Alchemist's Dome.

"We seek an audience with the Sheikh–" the rest of his sentence was cut off by a loud crash. Someone had dropped a hammer on the tiles for the roof. "Are you he?"

The Sheikh had gotten the message, though. "Welcome, friends! Any messengers from Emperor–" the tiles on the next level of scaffolding were smashed by the tiles on the upper layer. The work boss was screaming his lungs out. "–is a welcome guest! Welcome to–" The scaffolding, thankfully only a storey high, collapsed.

The Sheikh was never a sheepish man. He grinned at them. "You find our fair Citadel in the midst of reconstruction," he said. "Sometimes one has to make an effort to keep the old ways ready for the new!"

"Indeed, Your Highness," said the Captain, frowning slightly at the display. "And it is the new that we come to talk to you about. Our Emperor is in dire need of your assistance."

The Sheikh was puzzled. "What could Japan want from me that they could not produce themselves?"

"In a word, Your Highness?"

"As good as any other."

"The Emperor needs speed. He has a message for the world that is of utmost importance, for the future of all our domains."

The Sheikh's brow became set. "Come inside, then. Let me hear this message, and we will see how I might help Emperor–" the rest of the dome caved in.

The Sheikh sighed. "Perhaps we should talk in the Paddocks. You might find it a little quieter."

The Sailor watched the spectacle with an amused look in his eye.


End file.
